I groaned as I woke up in the morning. The sun was high up. It’s probably near mid-day already. Oliver’s not on the bed, nor in the room. I feel sore, my body aches. I’m not sure how long and how many times Oliver and I made love. He was a bit aggressive last night. I dragged myself across the room to the bathroom. My stomach growls. I’m hungry.
When I went down, Oliver was arranging the toys we bought yesterday on the mini table in the living room. I can’t imagine we bought that much.
He turned when he heard my footsteps.
“Hungry? I already made lunch.” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked as he approached. He gave me a morning kiss.
“You were sleeping soundly, and I thought you needed the rest.” I hit him on the shoulder again. He carried me to the kitchen,
